Seasonal
by princess mei
Summary: She disposes of the eye patch, thinking bitterly that she wants her eyes to match. —189669


**title:** Seasonal

**disclaimer:** KHR are no belong to me

**characters:** Chrome, Hibari, Mukuro set somewhere in the future

* * *

The summer heat is closing in, Chrome feels it on her neck, her back and her face (she loathes such heat with a passion). Slipping off her shoulders is the yukata, a deep shade of violet hanging off her shoulder. The sun's rays immediately attack it before she pulls it back up in a slow, lazy gesture. The open door veranda is meant to serve as an outlet to drive in the scarce cool breeze, but proves to be ineffective.

It's peaceful at the least, she thinks. The other members of the Vongola have returned to Italy for the summer, but she resolves to stay home, in Namimori (Naturally Hibari refuses to go anywhere with a crowd or not in the five kilometre radius of Namimori middle school).

Ah, the middle school.

Where wistful memories slept, memories of the days she spent as that man's vessel, his pet. She cursed herself for being so naïve back then, being deceived into believing every one of the male illusionist's words, his faux emotions, tricked into falling in love. The day she was betrayed and left behind, that was when she decided that hated liars and that she too, would leave the same naïve girl behind.

So she grows her hair long into sleek, indigo tresses and rids herself of that _ridiculous_ pineapple hairstyle. The Kokuyo uniform he gave her is burned to cinders. She disposes of the eye patch, thinking bitterly that she wants her eyes to match and in place she conjures an illusionary right eye, the same hue of purple as her left.

And then years later, six days before today, he appears before her, oozing of sweet words and heartfelt apologies. "Come back to me," he says, "I need you." His voice is velvety as usual, full of so much heat she almost melts into the sound of it again, almost. But instead they prick her throat and stab his place in her heart (but of course that place doesn't exist anymore). They were words she had longed for years ago. If anything, he probably just needed someone he could throw away after using.

Again.

She inches a few steps towards him, her alabaster hands cup his face and bring it close to hers, just so their foreheads are touching. He feigns a look of mild surprise as he feels the flesh of her hands on his skin, his mismatched eyes display the feeling of suppressed pain (he's become a better actor over the years, hasn't he?). "I'll meet up with you again in Italy during the summer," she utters softly, "For now I need time to sever my ties with the Vongola." Lucifer's smile is on his face as he wholeheartedly agrees with her, leaving her again with nothing but the brush of his devilish lips on her hand.

But of course Chrome has learned to lie just as well as he does.

And she hopes that he's waiting for her now, waiting for the entirety of summer on the coasts of Italy. And she hopes that his spirit breaks and his confidence falters the moment he realizes that he has been fooled by the same innocent girl he had fooled all those years ago.

A wave of cool air brushes over her face and interrupts her thoughts. The Cloud Guardian is staring at her, a dubious look on his face and a rice paper fan in his hand. She turned to face him, wide-eyed and a slightly dazed. Her eyes wander to his torso, where his black yukata shamelessly exposes his toned chest. It's clear that she's been leaning against him on his lap because the folds of her clothes have left a shallow indent.

His expression reverts back to its ever impassive state as she quickly takes the object from his hand and begins to fan him. "What were you just thinking about? You sure did look amused." his voice exudes cool and suave in comparison, and it soothes her (she mentally notes that she much preferred this). Chrome simply smiles, hinting at mystery and lays her cheek against his body, placing the fan against the wooden floorboards.

"It's nothing," she sings quietly "something that doesn't matter anymore." Hibari's face shows mild indifference as he disregards her answer. His calloused hands slide up her arms and rest on her shoulders, where he rubs them affectionately. He lets out a concluding "Hmph" before he sets his chin on her head, and eventually brings it down for his lips to kiss the top of her head. For a single moment, she forgets the heat and falls into the comfort of his arms with closed eyes and a content smile.

_end._

_

* * *

_your wonderful, wonderful feedback is appreciated.


End file.
